


Pi on a Saturday

by goobzoop



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cheesy, Fluff, I wrote this really fast this morning so I hope you guys like it, Im really into soulmates lately, Love, M/M, One Shot, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, meeting your soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24181054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goobzoop/pseuds/goobzoop
Summary: Soulmate AU! Spencer and Aaron are bound by the marks on their wrists. This is how they meet. Short and sweet.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 6
Kudos: 353
Collections: That's My Soul Mate





	Pi on a Saturday

Midnight on a Saturday. That was when Spencer felt his wrist burn. The excruciating pain of having your soul fuzed together with someone else's was no less severe than actually having some tangible part of your body ripped apart, blood vessels ripping, muscles tearing, bones breaking, and violently welded together at searing hot temperatures, _ten thousand degrees Fahrenheit_ , to someone else’s broken and bloody limb.

Red. Hot. _Pain._

If it weren’t for the fact that at the end of the tunnel, your perfect match was fated to be yours, forever and always, no sane person would choose to live past their 18th birthday.

For Aaron, ever stoic, pessimistic, no-bullshit Hotchner, he never received a Soulmark.

But, Aaron, ever stoic, never gave up hope. He was a hopeless romantic like that.

Emphasis on the hopeless. 

Some people _do_ get their soul marks late, because yes, not everyone turns 18 at the same time, _but_ Aaron waited year after year to no avail. His 19th birthday came and went. His 20th, his 25th… After five years it was time to give up hope. At seven it was foolish. At ten, well, it was just sad.

But Aaron was a sad man. 

28 years old and ten years past the point of hope, yet he was still holding on. 

It was midnight on a saturday when his wrist started to burn. Insufferable, unimaginable pain. 

He smiled. 

His skin was on _fire_. Handshake with the devil kind of fire. Kill me now, death is better than _this_ kind of fire. 

He still smiled. 

When it was all over and he brought his wrist up to see what symbol represented the soul of his destined mate, he was met with a very simple design.

Pi. 3.14. A mathematical constant, a transcendental number, a decimal representation of never ending and never settling into a permanently repeating pattern.

He had a feeling his soulmate was going to keep him on his toes. 

The next day Aaron went out to a diner and had pie for breakfast, because why the hell not?

After that, things changed. He felt more _whole_. There was another part of him out there, and he didn’t have them yet, but he knew they were there. 

He had certainty.

He had the twinge of emotion that pushed or pulled through him every time his soulmate had a big surge of happies, joy, or even sadness. He always wondered what made his soulmate feel that way, but he knew someday they would tell him everything.

And he couldn't wait. 

When Aaron was promoted within the FBI to work in the BAU, he wondered if his soulmate could feel his happiness. He wondered where they were, what they were doing, and hoped it would bring as much joy to them as it did to him. 

The day he took down his first unsub. The day he lost his first victim. His soulmate was there for all of it. He rubbed the smooth symbol on his wrist and knew that when they met, it wouldn’t feel like the first time. 

It would feel like coming home. 

. . .

When Spencer’s wrist burned on midnight of his 18th birthday, it was unexpected but only in the sense that he didn’t feel like he deserved a soulmate. Always the odd one out, Spencer lost hope before it ever began. Constantly being tormented, growing up way too fast, and never receiving any unconditional love from his parents left Spencer feeling rejected in every sense of the word. 

When his wrist started to burn, he stared at it in wonder. 

They may have been the only two people in the word that didn’t so much as grimace when getting their marks. 

Perhaps that was part of what made them so compatible. 

Spencer just stared and stared. He rubbed it with soap, and when it didn’t come off, he sighed. 

A sign of relief for every day he spent _knowing_ that there was no one out there for him. 

Because there was, and the proof was _right there._

The proof sent shockwaves through his body when his mate was anxious, and warm calming waves when he was peaceful. It filled him up with butterflies and smiles when he was happy, and heavy raindrops and storm clouds when he was sad. 

It was like he was there with him even when he couldn't be. 

So Spencer lived everyday waiting for a spark of emotion, something to let him know he was there. He was with him when he sent his mother off to the hospital, and when he received his PhDs, when he swallowed his apprehension and applied for the FBI’s training academy. 

He was there with him when he had first day jitters.

He was there with him when he walked into Quantico, quelling his nerves, an almost silent proclamation of ‘you got this’. 

. . . 

Aaron woke up particularly full of nerves on a normal Sunday morning, and he smiled down at his Pi. It must be a big day for his soulmate. 

He went for a run. Drank some tea. Anything to have a little bit of a calming presence. 

When he got into work, his mark started to feel _hot_ , but not at all like the searing sort of pain that he felt nearly five years prior. This hotness was warm and inviting. It felt like a bath with scented candles, or a sweat inducing sauna. 

He rubbed his mark and smiled. He didn’t know what it was, but he certainly liked it. He hoped it had something to do with the anxiety that his soulmate was feeling all day. Maybe they finally had a resolution to their problem? He still felt anxious, but his mark was far warmer than he was on edge. 

There was a knock on the door and Gideon came through. 

Behind him was a lanky, wet behind the ears kid dressed in a sweater vest and a nervous smile. He was really quite beautiful. It wasn’t the most professional thing to think, but Aaron had gone 30 years without thinking that sort of thing before, so cut he man a break. This young man looked like an angel fallen straight from heaven to his doorstep and it would be near impossible not to have a single thought about it. 

His hair was golden and his eyes matched, his demeanor was reserved but strangely inviting; he was altogether genuine and completely originally himself. A beautiful profile. 

Gideon introduced him. 

_SSA Hotchner,_ meet _Dr. Spencer Reid._

Aaron reached out to shake. Reid hesitated but obliged with a shaky smile. Aaron could feel his soulmate’s tension. Fear mixed with… _desire?_

What on earth were they doing?

But, all traces of that twinge of jealousy dissipated when their hands collided. There were sparks in the room. Electrical spirals bouncing off the walls. White hot, red hot, buzzing and snapping and flying all around. His wrist was warm, _warm_. 

Happy warm. 

Love warm. 

Radiating down into his fingertips and flowing into this Spencer Reid character, and Spencer’s warmth was traveling through his arm and heading straight for his heart, _oh_ , oh god, so _that’s_ what it felt like to be complete. 

Wholly, inexplicably, _complete._  


The only day better than Saturday at midnight was Sunday at noon, because that’s when Aaron met Spencer.

“Call me Aaron.” he said, affection dripping from each and every syllable. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes shining. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Aaron.”

Aaron blushed. “You have _no_ idea.” He was looking down at Spencer’s wrist, a dark black scale of justice etched perfectly on his skin. 

It felt like the first day of his life. 

It felt like home.


End file.
